Ice Heals
by M. Rhae
Summary: Every kid needs someone to take care of them, and every woman has a need to open their heart to a helpless, lovable child. Even the coldest pieces of ice can melt to a fierce, protective flame. Persona 3. Mitsuru/Ken. Potential spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Persona 3 FES or anything that relates to it.**

Here's the first part of a drama featuring Ken and Mitsuru! It's an unusual pairing, but I had a sudden inspiration to write a tale that deals with complex emotions and the softer side of Mitsuru Kirijo. I don't quite know where it's going yet, but I hope that it turns out okay! Please read and review and let me know what you think! :)

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**_o1._**

Surrounded by the suffocating puke-green air and the ever-growing pool of rose-red blood, Ken ran.

He ignored the alarmed, desperate calls of his teammates as he skirted the edges of the run-down alley, streaking into the eerie luminescence of the full moon. He couldn't take it anymore; he couldn't live with himself. If he hadn't been such a soured, weak child, Shinji would still be alive. If he hadn't lured him out to the place where all crimes flourish, perhaps they both would have escaped with their lives. It was all his fault.

Coffins towered above him as he continued to race towards the one place he could mourn and mope and straighten things out: the shrine. It was where Koro-chan had taken refuge, and it was where Ken would be welcomed and able. The Dark Hour was bound to be near its close, but it didn't even matter. No one would care about a roughed-up, crying elementary kid running amuck. No one besides his mother had ever truly cared about him.

Out of breath, Ken stopped, hunched over and panting. Under the shade of the colossal donation building, only his eyes gleamed with moist, pained fury. No one could see him, and no one would want to. He sank to his knees and let out a wail, the first since that fateful night three years ago.

A flash of silver hair had come to him then, and a hesitant hand had clapped his shoulder. Still a young child, Ken had reached out to it only to find a formidable gap. Akihiko had stood his distance and stared at him lugubriously, a hint of fear intertwined with his sorrow. Before Ken could call out his name, he had vanished, flanking the heavily-clothed figure that had taken away Ken's reason for living.

Fresh fatigue and anger shot through Ken as his screams continued and as he pounded his fists to the ground. How could Akihiko have acted so selfishly? Didn't he know that Ken had always admired him? Didn't he realize desperation and longing when it cried right in front of his face? He had summoned enough pity to provide a single, radiant touch, but it wasn't enough. Nothing was ever enough.

And as he sat on the grungy gravel, his persona helpless as he battled a plight out of anyone else's hands, Akihiko again failed to appear. But as Ken covered his face with his hands, shaking with his uncontrollable sobs, someone else came for him.

The wind shifted, and Ken could scent a regal, feminine scent coming from the distance. Afraid, he snapped his head up and looked wildly around, finally spotting the source of the oddly appealing and comforting aroma.

Mitsuru moved closer to stand in front of the crouched, defeated boy, her arms crossed and pressed against her chest. Staring up at her, Ken felt a single tear roll down his glistening blue eye. He looked into her sparkling amber-brown pits, and she gazed back. And without a word, he was pressed against her slender body and bawling his ten-year old eyes out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Persona 3 FES and anything that relates to it.**

I'm so sorry that it took so long to upload this chapter! I've been really busy with the end of high school and with work and everything... Well, without further ado, here is the (short) second chapter, and there's hopefully more to come soon! Don't forget to let me know your thoughts!

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**_o2._**

A soft hand touched Ken's damp, sweaty hair, hovering slightly. "It's alright, Amada. You're alright. Shh."

"No. _No._" Ken's brown eyes were snapped shut, and his fists were curled into tight balls that clutched the hem of Mitsuru's skirt. Sweat streaked his pale, shaking face, and as Nemesis howled deep within his heart and trembled with the very same anguish, he couldn't hold back the soft whimpers that erupted from his dry, scratchy throat. He didn't know what to do, and he hardly knew where he was. He felt so helpless.

"It's over now," said Mitsuru, tilting her head to stare at the child. Her eyes mused over his small, clinging form, and her hand moved hesitantly to pat his back. Ken didn't react to the gesture, but inside, he felt slight warmth spread through him at the comfort and stability. But it wasn't enough to make him stop crying.

"You don't get it, Senpai," he finally whispered, lifting his head to gaze into her flickering amber pits. "He's gone because of me, so it's all my fault."

"Hush." She drew an arm around his shoulders, patting his cheek slightly, which burned red and overheated.

With a jolt, the sky changed from olive to onyx, and the atmosphere softened and settled with the passing of the Dark Hour. His face flushed with fatigue and strain, Ken felt himself breathe faster as his chest began to feel warm and his legs became clammy and uncomfortable. It was if the entirety of everything had finally crashed on him, and as he looked up at Mitsuru, he felt her hand move from his face to his shoulder as she firmly kept him from falling.

"You have a fever," she commented, her eyes narrowing and her posture stiffening. Ken merely gazed up at her and released a faint cough, words tangled up in his mouth.

Without a word, Mitsuru stood up, wrapped her arms around Ken's pitiful body, and lifted him up. Draped in her arms, Ken huddled closer to her neck as she started to walk back towards the dorm, her face grim yet soft as the moon continued to shine with its pure, ethereal essence.

"You'll be alright, Amada," she whispered, looking down at the child with half-closed eyes and wheezing breaths. "I'll get you through this. You'll be alright."

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1


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: As always, I don't own Persona 3 FES.**

Here's the next part! A little longer, but not by much :) BrokenAria- Thank you so much for your in-depth, honest reviews! They're very useful and encouraging. Definitely some of the best I've ever gotten. Again, thank you :) To everyone: keep reading and reviewing, and I'll keep on trying. Enjoy!

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**_o3. _**

Swaying with the rhythm of the cool, late-night breeze, Mitsuru's ruby locks brushed against the tender surface of Ken's cheek. It itched, and as Ken lifted his head to get away from it, he opened his eyes and yawned. He realized too late how good it felt to sleep; how easy it was. Consumed in the wonders of one's subconscious mind, there's really nothing to worry about. While dreaming, Ken is a ten year-old superhero enrolled in the fanciest school and living in the biggest house with his mother. When he wakes up, Ken is an orphaned murderer.

"Sorry that I fell asleep."

"Don't be ridiculous." Mitsuru continued moving at her brisk, purposeful pace, and she only slowed as she put a hand on Ken's perspiring forehead. Ken flinched away from the cool, dry hand, and he heard a slight sigh as he put his head back on her frilled shoulder.

"Senpai, what's gonna happen to me?"

"Nothing, Amada," came the terse, automatic response. But Ken could feel through to the underlying softness, and it was good enough for him. He allowed Nemesis to soothe him back to sleep.

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"What the –"

"Close the door, Iori."

"But why do yo –"

"You're letting a chill in."

Mitsuru ignored the flabbergasted, awkwardly-slumped teenager as she swept into the dorm and set down her handbag, which tipped over onto the crumb-laden floor. She avoided the mass of concerned, curious gazes as she made her way up to the 2nd story of the building. Stepping lightly so as not to awaken Amada, she approached the appropriate door and then quietly twisted open the handle. She turned on a lamp, drew the blinds, and then set down the dozing boy in her arms.

"Wha –"

"Shh. We're home now. We're in your room."

"I… Yeah?"

"Yes, yes. Now shush. Lay your head down while I cover you."

It was the oddest thing in the entire waking and hiding world. As Mitsuru murmured to Ken in a low, inaudible voice, draped his bed sheets tightly over his shivering body, and then stood back to stare at him as he squirmed and struggled with his body and his conscious, she was feeling something.

It was inexplicable; it was unattainable. Somewhere deep within her chest, she felt a warmth start to spread through her. It wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't… Normal. At least not to her.

"Put this on your head," Mitsuru ordered, returning to Ken's side with a washcloth dampened with cool water. "It'll bring your fever down."

"But I'm sleepy…"

"Here. Just keep it there."

Mitsuru wasn't a doctor, and she certainly wasn't a mother to a child, but she knew what to do when a little one wasn't feeling good. She sat on the edge of the bed and gently put the towel on his head. She pressed down slightly, and she watched him gaze at her before slowly closing his eyes. He'd be fighting a lot of things the next few days, and this sickness didn't need to be one of them.

After a few minutes, Ken promptly fell asleep. His light snoring filled the room, and Mitsuru listened as she flipped the washcloth and sized up his breathing. It was slow and even, relaxed yet faint; innocent and young.

As she continued to tend to the boy, Mitsuru started to think, and she inevitably started to worry. What was she doing by counting all his breaths and re-wetting the washcloth? What was she trying to do? What was she trying to prove?

_You don't have to excuse your natural instincts, _her persona mused. _Perhaps it's time you take the time to feel._

It was then that Mitsuru stopped, straightening her back and narrowing her gaze. Tossing the washcloth on Ken's forehead, she moved away from the bed and over to a mirror, where she looked at herself.

"You are a fighter," she said, glowering into the glittering amber-brown pits. "You were taught to stab, and you only know how to attack. Your instincts are to survive, and anything else is nonexistent."

_You can't hide from your nature, Mitsuru. You're still a woman, and you still feel like one._

"I'm as cold and sturdy as ice," she whispered, pushing her hair back and staring back at her face.

_And ice melts, _said Penthesilea.

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I'll update as soon as I can, and I hope that you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. :) Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Persona series.**

****Well, with this story, I feel that I went along too fast, so I'm amending it. I'm sticking with my original idea, and I'm wrapping it up. This is what it was meant to be, and this is what it shall be. Thank you to everyone that reviewed and help me continue it. It really kept me goin'. :D Well, here we gooo!

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**_o4._**

As she made her way down to the dead silence of the lounge, her feet light clicks against the surface of the steps, Mitsuru met six pairs of lost, expecting eyes.

She had known it was coming, but that didn't make it any easier. She was the leader, the boss; the senpai, the superior. She always had the right answer, and she always knew what to do. So when one of their roommates was murdered and another resolved to complete hysterics, who did they all turn to?

_The firmest block of ice they know, _Penthesilea answered.

Taking a deep breath, Mitsuru let her hand trail off the railing of the stairs as she entered the dining area. Yukari, Fuuka, and Junpei were seated, and Aigis and Minako stood nearby with Koromaru at their feet. Akihiko was nowhere to be seen, and though the atmosphere was grave and somber, there was something different in the air. Mitsuru couldn't quite distinguish it, but there was a certain tension that didn't seem to relate to the intensity of everyone's sorrow.

"…How's Ken?" Minako asked after a while. Her eyes were bright in the dim of the early morning darkness, and Mitsuru appreciated her respect and courtesy. It was very Kirijo of her.

"He's traumatized, but he'll heal with time. He feels tremendous guilt at the course of events, and he's contracted a high fever."

"I'm sure he'll shape up," Minako agreed. "He's a tough kid."

Warmth spread through Mitsuru's body at the brunette's praise, and she didn't even know why. It felt right, and it made her proud. It was important for others to understand all that Ken went through. He was only a little boy.

"When's Akihiko-senpai coming home?" came a small voice from the table.

Mitsuru looked over at Yukari, whose gaze was fixed on the carpet, and she frowned. "I'm not sure. I didn't even know he was out."

"Because you were too busy playing Mommy with Ken."

Everyone stopped, and Mitsuru stared. That odd tension strengthened, and Junpei, his eyes hard and his face wicked, was glowering back at her with dauntless frustration.

"So, wherever he is, I'm sure Akihiko fine. But we must alert the police and report that Shin –"

"Don't change the subject, Senpai."

"That Shinjiro is missing," she continued, her voice louder, "and then they will search and ultimately find him in the alley. The firm will assure that there is no trace to our group, and –"

"God DAMN it, Mitsuru!" He was standing by now, and all eyes were torn between him and the redheaded senpai. "You just don't get it, do you? We needed you, and you weren't there. We didn't know what to do, and we couldn't do anything without your command. Akihiko ran off, and so did you! Do you get how helpless that made us feel?"

"You left us," Yukari added, her brown eyes averting Mitsuru's. "You went to him, and even when you came back, you left us in the dust. It was if _our _feelings weren't important enough."

Dazed, Mitsuru looked from face to face to see similar wrath and hurt reflected in the depths of their eyes. Of all things to happen on the full moon of October, she wasn't expecting this. She had expected to see Shinjiro lounged on the couch after the mission, and she had expected to see Ken consumed with his collection of Japanese action figures. And most importantly, she had expected her roommates to be content after the night's closing, and she had expected everything to be fine.

_But it's not fine, _her persona admitted. _It's far from it, and regardless of what you do, someone is going to be hurt._

Opening her mouth to fight, to retaliate, to save herself and defend her character, Mitsuru closed it. Penthesilea was right, and Mitsuru was… Confused. For the first time in her life, it seemed, she had no idea what to do. And there wasn't a senpai to turn and talk to. She was on her own, like her roommates were. She didn't know what to make of it.

Just as the corners of her mouth twitched in the beginnings of speech, another unexpected event occurred, and it would only add to Mitsuru's emotional stress.

Panting heavily while clutching his chest, Akihiko barged into the dorm, slumping against the wall. He banged his head backwards, and as though oblivious to everyone in the room, he let out a single cry of despair.

Gazing over at him, Mitsuru came back to reality. Tonight, though traumatic for Ken, was completely agonizing for Akihiko. Shinjiro was murdered this evening, and he was the silver-haired boxer's closest friend besides herself.

"Akihiko…" His head twitched at the sound of her voice, and she slowly moved forward, suddenly feeling partial to her own feelings of grief and loss.

In a way, Junpei was right: Mitsuru had been too busy fussing over Ken to care about anyone else's feelings, even her own. Very carefully, she went over to Akihiko and sat down next to him, her eyes on the ground.

"Go away," he whined in a small, strained voice. He then gurgled something and started sobbing again.

Still looking down, Mitsuru put her arm around his slender back. She pulled him to her, and she sat there holding him, tears welling up in their eyes.

"S-Senpai," said Minako, coming forward to stand in front of the two seniors, her red eyes watery. "We're sorry. We know how close you both were to him."

Glancing upwards, Mitsuru met the battle leader's gaze, and she nodded, though very slightly. Akihiko lifted his head, and he too gazed in Minako's eyes. But as Mitsuru watched him, she saw a hint of something more. Strong emotion flitted between the two, and as Minako wordlessly slid to Akihiko's other side, Mitsuru felt a cold, hard awareness seep into the core of her being.

_She loves him, _her persona echoed. Mitsuru gradually stood up and moved away, her eyes fixated on the two cuddling on the ground. _And he loves her._

Mitsuru wasn't jealous, for she and Akihiko had been friends since the beginning of time, but it still stirred her stomach a little, and it ultimately made her feel even more lonely.

"AHHHH! NOOOOO! SHINJIRO!"

All of the standing SEES members jerked their heads up and stared towards the ceiling. Her heart hammering, Mitsuru's stare lingered, and after a few moments, she started towards the stairs.

"Of course," she heard Junpei mumble. She then heard a shush and a thud. "Freakin' unbelievable."

As Mitsuru made her way over to second floor hallway, she ignored Junpei; she ignored everyone. They were petty and unimportant at the moment, and though the thought was horrid, it was true. What a grand leader she was.

Reaching the proper door, Mitsuru's heart fluttered with a myriad of emotions, and she felt a chilling slush of water flow over her soul.

"I'm melting," she whispered, leaning against the boy's door. She didn't quite know how to feel. "I can't believe it. With Ken, with Akihiko… I'm…. Melting."

Penthesilea comforted her as she entered Ken's room, her eyes catching his twisted, sweaty form. She went over to him and gently shook him awake. His eyes wide and glassy, he stared at her, stared at his surroundings, and then threw himself into her arms, whimpering.

"I saw it happen again," he muttered between sobs. Mitsuru held him tight and stroked his beaded, damp hair. "I-I saw him on the ground, all bloody and tangled…"

"Don't think about it," she crooned, her lips grazing the top of his head. "Shh. Just try and go back to sleep. Come on. Lay your head down."

As he did as he was told and put his head back on his pillow, Ken gave Mitsuru a look, and she understood at once.

Wrapping the blankets tightly around his small, shaking form, she lightly stretched out next to him, brushing the hair out of his face.

"It's okay," she murmured, watching his brown eyes close and his chest start to rise and fall with less hysterics. "I'll stay with you. You'll only have good dreams."

Laying there, mothering the boy who was the cause for everyone's pain yet who was the victim himself, Mitsuru closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was a long, dramatic, rattling breath.

"When I'm with you, I feel important," she whispered, a tear escaping down her cheek. "You need me to take care of you, but I also need you so I can take of myself." His small hand clutched hers, and as surprised as she was, Mitsuru held it tight, another tear gliding from her eyes.

_I never knew I would ever feel like this, _she mused, a warm, uplifting sensation filling the essence of her body. As she held his hand and held him tight, singing lullabies in his ear, her emotions started to settle. It was if someone had switched their light switch off.

And just like that, with the force and power of a little boy, a grownup girl, and a cluster of tragedies and convictions, ice began to heal.

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I know it was a weird pairing, and it was strange that it was a "pairing" yet a completely platonic one, but I really saw something good between those two. I saw that they could help each other along with themselves. I love Mitsuru, and basically all my fanficitons have her in it, so I'm going to try and completely master her character and eventually as many others as I can.

Thank you for reading this story, and I hope you have a fantastic day. :)


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